


Clover & Gucci

by hrrybb



Series: I wanna carry all of your children [1]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Emotions about babies, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Very super slight mention of Harry being underage, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:10:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrrybb/pseuds/hrrybb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hiya,” Nick laughs, fag bumping against his teeth. “Honestly, Harold, how did you get this drunk?” </p><p>“‘M not,” Harry retorts, trying to dig a hand into the front of Nick’s trousers this time. </p><p>“You’re trying to touch my dick in an alleyway. You’re drunk,” Nick tells him, gingerly moving away to lean against the wall. It’s not that he hasn’t had a drink or two (or four) himself. He’s celebrating, a bit. It’s a rare night out for them like this now and he’s determined to enjoy it, hangover be damned. Plus, he’s never been one to say no to free alcohol. </p><p>Basically, Nick just wants to have a cigarette but Harry is very drunk and has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clover & Gucci

**Author's Note:**

> Hi welcome to this thing I had a lot of emotions about the other day and hammered out.  
> Any mistakes are mine but thank you to July for reading this over and always being right on the same damn page as me.  
> This is all very fake. Thanks.

Nick listens to the fading sounds of Sam Smith presenting the last award of the night as he stumbles down a dimly lit hallway. He’d been told it would lead towards a private alley. He’s got a just-this-side-of-too-drunk Harry following behind him, his fingers looped through Nick’s belt under his jacket. He just really needs a cigarette before they leave.

At the end of the hall he reaches to push a heavy, hopefully non-emergency exit door open. Cool late February air hits his face just as he feels Harry’s hand dipping into the back of his trousers.

“Harry!” he squawks, reaching back to grab Harry’s wrist and pull it out. “Could you stop?” he asks, laughing as he trips on the step down.

Harry trips too, grabbing him around the torso for balance. “Oof,” he mutters, drunkenly resting his head against the back of Nick’s shoulder.

Nick reaches into his suit jacket pocket for a cigarette as Harry’s hands wander around to his front.

“Hiya,” Nick laughs, fag bumping against his teeth. “Honestly, Harold, how did you get this drunk?”

“‘M not,” Harry retorts, trying to dig a hand into the front of Nick’s trousers this time.

“You’re trying to touch my dick in an alleyway. You’re drunk,” Nick tells him, gingerly moving away to lean against the wall. It’s not that he hasn’t had a drink or two (or four) himself. He’s celebrating, a bit. It’s a rare night out for them like this now and he’s determined to enjoy it, hangover be damned. Plus, he’s never been one to say no to free alcohol.

He knows that Harry’s drunk from years of experience and the fact that he’s been getting progressively clingier throughout the night. Harry had been rubbing his foot up Nick’s calf at dinner, and when Nick poked him with his fork to stop, he’d pouted and placed a hand alarmingly high on Nick’s thigh instead.

Nick has just enough time to light his cigarette and put his lighter away before Harry is pressed up the front of him, arms around his shoulders.

“I always want to touch your dick,” he slurs into Nick’s neck. “Always have, always will.”

“What a lovely sentiment, Haz,” Nick scoffs, blowing smoke over his shoulder.

Some old part of his brain makes him feel thankful that the door had lead out to an alley, and not the main street where the paps are waiting for the end of the ceremony. He doesn’t need to be worried though. The whole world knows about him and Harry. It’s absolutely amazing, being able to love Harry properly and in the open. His brain just relapses and forgets, sometimes. Times like now, when it feels like they’ve snuck away from events a million times before for secret, sexy purposes. Secret, sexy purposes that should probably stay private, no matter what stage their relationship is at.

Nick honestly just wanted a fag, but he thinks that Harry might have gotten the wrong idea with following him out. He’s pressing distracting, open kisses down Nick’s neck, nuzzling into it now and again.

“What if,” Harry mumbles, bringing his face level with Nicks. He wobbles back a bit, and Nick places a protective hand on the small of his back. “If, if it was like, 2012. I would be eighteen again. Would you like that?” He looks at him hopefully, eyes bright.

“2012, huh? Feels like the fuckin’ dark ages.” Harry’s face scrunches up unhappily, and Nick leans in to kiss the look away. Harry immediately opens his mouth and threads his fingers into the back of Nick’s hair. After a long, heated minute Nick pulls back. “If it was really 2012, I’d be telling you to watch my quiff.”

“ _Nick_ ,” Harry whines, trying to press him even further into the wall. “Remember though? Fuck, I was always so horny when I was eighteen.” He gives Nick another wet kiss, pulling back quickly to suck a mark under his jaw.

“God,” Nick replies, his voice barely a whisper. He tips his head back and drops his cigarette to the ground.

“Mmm, fuck. Was so eager then,” Harry reminisces, hands reaching for Nick’s belt.

“Hmph, like you’re not eager now?” Nick gives another laugh. Harry shoots him another unhappy look that tells Nick he wants him to play along. “Love it though,” he concedes.

“Remember that night you made me come four times?” Harry asks him, unzipping Nick’s fly slowly. How could Nick fucking forget?

“Burned into my damn brain, that,” he replies, curling a hand under the mess of Harry’s long hair. It feels like they barely have time for one, nowadays.

“We’ve got some time right now,” Harry argues like he’s read Nick’s mind, kissing his throat again. Maybe he said it out loud. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last drink.

Harry finally reaches into his pants, and Nick can feel his cock throb right in Harry’s palm.

“Harry, _fuck_ ,” Nick keens, unconsciously thrusting forward. Harry has him trapped so tight against the brick he can barely move.

“Remember the first time I sucked you off proper?”

Nick can only moan harshly in reply. He does remember, surprisingly. They’d stumbled out of Groucho one night, somehow unspotted, barely a month after Harry’d turned eighteen. Harry had tried to kiss him in the cab home, but Nick didn’t let him. He was still getting used to the whole idea of him and Harry being more than just mates, so he sure as hell wasn’t going to risk getting papped snogging him.

Funny, that now he’s letting Harry give him a handjob in an alleyway like it’s no big deal. But it’s been eight years and frankly, they’ve done worse.

“Had me between your thighs on the living room floor,” Harry slurs into his ear, nipping at the skin. His thumb flicks over the tip of his dick and Nick’s hips go forward again. “Barely knew what to do. Just wanted to get you off so bad.”

“Fuck, Harry,” Nick repeats softly, unable to form coherent sentences right now.

To this day, it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced. He’d been snogging Harry on the couch for what felt like barely a minute before he slid off Nick’s lap and onto the hardwood floor.

“Can I, um?” Harry had asked, flicking his hair around awkwardly. Then he reached a hand out to pet up Nick’s thigh. He remembers drunkenly scrambling his jeans off, worried that Harry might never offer again. “Really’ve wanted to do this,” he’d told Nick, licking his lips.

It had been really messy and probably a bit too wet, but it was still fucking perfect. Nick had come embarrassingly quickly, but Harry didn’t seem to mind, or know. He just kept licking at the head until Nick was oversensitive like he couldn’t get enough.

“Want you to fuck me,” Harry whispers, sliding a knee between Nicks. He rubs himself against the back of his hand working over Nick.

“We really can’t right now,” Nick pants, but his dick betrays him and twitches as Harry focuses on the head again. “Gotta go home, babe. Make sure Aimee hasn’t killed the baby.”

The mention of their little Clover clearly affects Harry, because he pushes his face into Nick’s shoulder and uses his free hand to squeeze the skin of his hip so hard it might bruise. Nick feels that too. His heart always swells about six sizes too big for his chest every time he thinks about the fact that he has a daughter now, and another six sizes about the fact that it’s _with Harry_.

“Love her,” Harry whispers. He sneaks a kiss just under the collar of Nick’s shirt.

“Me too. Love you,” Nick whispers back, squeezing his arse for good measure. “Remember when I only had one child, not two?”

Harry looks up at him, confused until it dawns on him. “Heey. I am _not_ a child.”

“You were when we first started this!” Nick retorts. “Oh god, I think that was a burn on me.”

Harry startles him with one of those loud, screeching outbursts of laughter. His eyes are crinkling around his smile and his dimples are on full display. Nick completely hates him.

“Shut the hell up and make me come already.” Nick knocks his head back against the damp wall as Harry goes back to work, hand picking up pace.

Nick fumbles his hands under the back of Harry’s jacket, rucking up his shirt. He can’t help his breath coming out in quick pants. Something low in his stomach starts swooping in the best way. “God, shit, Harry,” he whines, digging his fingers into the flesh of Harry’s back just above his arse. A certain twist of Harry’s wrist has him coming suddenly, wet into Harry’s palm. “ _Yes_ , god. Thank you.”

Reaching between them to tuck himself away, Nick realizes they haven’t got anything to clean up with. “Shit, I - no!” He manages to grab Harry’s hand right before he wipes his dirty hand on his brand new Gucci suit. “Fuck. _Never_ wipe my come on Gucci. What have I ever taught you?”

“This,” Harry replies, a wicked smile twisting onto his lips as he brings his hand to his mouth, licking it completely clean.

“Oh god!” Nick practically shouts, slapping a hand over his eyes in utter disbelief. “I did not- fuck.” Harry’s wet hand closes around his wrist, pulling it away from his face.

“Let’s go see Clo.” Harry throws an arm across Nick’s shoulders and trips on their first step forward, proving how drunk he is. He squints as he tries to read his watch across Nicks body. “Will you blow me in the car?” He asks in a failed whisper as they shuffle down the alleyway.

“We’ll see about that, Beyonce,” Nick chuckles nonsensically as they step around the corner onto the road. Immediately, paparazzi turn and start calling their names, cameras flashing. “Love you,” he smiles, turning Harry’s head towards his for a kiss before heading for the car they’d scheduled earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!!!! I appreciate any comments, good or bad :)


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